Friday, May 27, 2016

A Book of the Seasons: May 27 (a new season, crickets and bats, apple blossoms, summer haze, deepening shadows, waving grasses, meadow fragrance, wind, apple blossoms, pollen dust, vireos, bird nests and eggs, the dark eye of nature)



The year is but a succession of days,
and I see that I could assign some office to each day
which, summed up, would be the history of the year.
Henry Thoreau, August 24, 1852


 Now that shades increase
the river is dark like the 
eye of a maiden. 
the eye of a maiden
May 27, 2013

The road is white with
the apple blossoms fallen
off, as with snowflakes.
May 27, 1852


wood frog on acorn

I hold a wood frog 
the color of a dead leaf –
perfectly frog-like. 

Red-eye the singer – 
a succession of short bars 
with no interval
May 27, 1854

Now seen through the haze, 
dark evergreens contrast with 
deciduous trees. 

The dark river, now that shades are increased, is like the dark eye of a maiden. May 27, 1859

The road is white with the apple blossoms fallen off, as with snowflakes. May 27, 1852

This is blossom week, beginning last Sunday. May 27, 1857

A peculiarity of these days is the first hearing of the crickets' creak, suggesting philosophy and thought. No greater event transpires now. It is the most interesting piece of news to be communicated, yet it is not in any newspaper. May 27, 1859

Cleared up last night after two and a half days' rain. May 27, 1853

A new season has commenced - summer - leafy June. May 27, 1853

The buttercups in the church-yard and on some hillsides are now looking more glossy and bright than ever after the rain. May 27, 1853

Still a very strong wind from northerly, and hazy and rather cool for season. May 27, 1855

How important the dark evergreens now seen through the haze in the distance and contrasting with the gauze-like, as yet thin-clad deciduous trees! May 27, 1855

The elms begin to droop and are heavy with shade. May 27, 1853

The fields now begin to wear the aspect of June, their grass just beginning to wave; . . . foliage thickening and casting darker shadows over the meadows, elm-tree-tops thick in distance, deciduous trees rapidly investing evergreens, haze with the strong wind. May 27, 1855

The meadow fragrance to-day. May 27, 1855

Perceived the meadow fragrance. May 27, 1856

I perceived that rare meadow fragrance on the 25th. May 27, 1857

Now first I notice a linty dust on the surface of the dark river at the Hemlocks, evidently from the new and downy leaves. May 27, 1859

It is a new and peculiar season when this phenomenon is observed. Rivers flow already bearing the dust of summer on their bosoms. May 27, 1859

Saw the yellow-legs on one side flying over the meadow against the strong wind and at first mistook it for a hawk.. May 27, 1855

Hear a black and white creeper sing, ah vee vee, vee vee, vitchet vitchet vitchet vitchet. May 27, 1859

I see and hear the yellow-throated vireo. It is somewhat similar (its strain) to that of the red-eye, prelia pre-li-ay, with longer intervals and occasionally a whistle like tlea tlow, or chowy chow, or tully ho on a higher key. It flits about in the tops of the trees. May 27, 1854

I find the pensile nest of a red-eye between a fork of a shrub chestnut near the path. It is made, thus far, of bark and different woolly and silky materials. May 27, 1854

The red-eye is an indefatigable singer, — a succession of short bars with hardly an interval long continued, now at 3 p. m. May 27, 1854

The vireo, too, is heard more than ever on the elms; his note begins to prevail. May 27, 1853

A wet day. The veery sings nevertheless. May 27, 1852

The black-polls are very numerous all over the town this spring. May 27, 1860
  • The white bars on the wings of both sexes are almost horizontal . . . The female has not a black, but rather, methinks, a slate - colored crown, and is a very different bird, — more of a yellowish brown. May 27, 1860
  •  I stand within seven or eight feet while they are busily pecking at the freshly bursting or extending glaucous fir twigs, deliberately examining them on all sides. May 27, 1860
Occasionally a summer yellowbird is in company with them, about the same business. May 27, 1860

The blue yellow-back or parti-colored warbler still, with the chestnut crescent on breast, near my Kalmia Swamp nest. May 27, 1855

J. Farmer found a marsh hawk's nest . . . with three fresh eggs. May 27, 1860

Ed. Emerson shows me an egg of a bittern (Ardea minor) from a nest in the midst of the Great Meadows, which four boys found, scaring up the bird, last Monday. May 27, 1858

Also an egg of a turtle dove, one of two in a nest in a pitch pine, about six feet from the ground, in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, by the side of a frequented walk, on a fork on a nearly horizontal limb. May 27, 1858

Fringilla melodia’s nest in midst of swamp, with four eggs, made partly of usnea; two stories, i.e. upon an old nest, elevated one foot above the water; eggs with very dark blotches. May 27, 1856

A thrasher’s nest on the bare open ground with four eggs which were seen three days ago. The nest is as open and exposed as it well can be, lined with roots, on a slight ridge where a rail fence has been, some rods from any bush. May 27, 1855

Azalea nudiflora blooms generally. May 27, 1859

Blue-eyed grass out. May 27, 1859

Celtis occidentalis, perhaps yesterday. How the staminate flowers drop off, even before opening! May 27, 1857

Golden senecio, at least to-morrow. May 27, 1859

Kalmia in prime, and rhodora. Apparently the oldest-blossomed kalmia the palest. May 27, 1856

The dogwood is coming out. May 27, 1852

Ladies'-slippers out. They perfume the air. May 27, 1852

The tall crowfoot out. May 27, 1852

Ranunculus recurvatus, hooked crowfoot, by the spring. May 27, 1852

The fringed polygala near the Corner Spring is a delicate flower, with very fresh tender green leaves and red-purple blossoms; beautiful from the contrast of its clear red-purple flowers with its clear green leaves. May 27, 1852

Myosotis stricta under Cliffs, how long? May 27, 1855

How interesting the huckleberries now generally in blossom on the knoll below the Cliff — countless wholesome red bells, beneath the fresh yellow green foliage! The berry-bearing vaccinium! It is a rich sight. May 27, 1855

Geranium at Bittern Cliff, apparently several days May 27, 1855

Carrion-flower a foot high. May 27, 1855

Crimson gall on a shrub oak. May 27, 1855

A loose-spiked sedge at Bittern Cliff Meadow. May 27, 1855

The pyrus (smooth-leaved) out apparently a day or two. May 27, 1856

The earliest thorn on hill, a day or more. May 27, 1857

Hemlock, apparently a day or two. May 27, 1857

Some butternut catkins; the leaves have been touched by frost. May 27, 1857

Some mountain sumach has grown one inch, some not started. May 27, 1855

Some button-bush three inches, some not started May 27, 1855

I hear the sound of fife and drum the other side of the village, and am reminded that it is May Training. May 27, 1857

They march and strut the better part of the day, going into the tavern two or three times . . . and at night they may be seen going home singly with swelling breasts. May 27, 1857

At evening, the first bat. May 27, 1857

I hear but few toads and peepers now. Methinks the tree-toad croaks more this wet weather. May 27, 1852

May 27, 2023




Catch a wood frog (Rana sylvatica), the color of a dead leaf. He croaks as I hold him, perfectly frog-like. May 27, 1852

See a painted turtle on a hill forty or fifty feet above river, probably laying eggs. May 27, 1855

Saw probably a deer mouse jumping off by the side of the swamp; short leaps of apparently ten inches. May 27, 1856

These expressions of the face of Nature are as constant and sure to recur as those of the eyes of maidens, from year to year, — sure to be repeated as long as time lasts. May 27, 1859



A new season has commenced
May 27, 2017

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  Spring Leaf-Out
A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  the Pitch Pine.
A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Birds of May
A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, Young Birds
A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau,  The Marsh Hawk
A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, The Veery (Wilson's thrush)

May 27, 2018


*****

January 9, 1855 ("Make a splendid discovery this afternoon. Walking through Holden’s white spruce swamp, I see peeping above the snow-crust some slender delicate evergreen shoots . . . the Kalmia glauca var. rosmarinifolia.") Note: the Kalmia glauca var. rosmarinifolia is known as rosemary-leaf laurel or alpine bog laurel (Andromeda Polifolia) H. Peter Loewer, Thoreau's Garden: Native Plants for the American Landscape 32-33
 April 18, 1852 ("For the first time I perceive this spring that the year is a circle.”)
 April 28, 1856 ("I hear to-day frequently the seezer seezer seezer of the black and white creeper, . . . suggesting still warmer weather, —that the season has revolved so much further.")
 May 5, 1860 ("It takes us many years to find out that Nature repeats herself annually”)
May 9, 1853: (Suddenly zigzag/overhead the first bat comes/out and disappears.)
May 11, 1856 ("The black and white creeper also is descending the oaks, etc., and uttering from time to time his seeser seeser seeser. What a rich, strong striped blue-black (?) and white bird”
May 18, 1860 ("The creak of the cricket has been common on all warm, dry hills, banks, etc., for a week, - inaugurating the summer.")
 May 19, 1860 ("The grass, especially the meadow-grasses, are seen to wave distinctly, and the shadows of the bright fair-weather cumuli are sweeping over them.")
May 20,  1853 ("The lady’s-slipper just out. ")
May 20, 1856 ("The Sylvia striata, or black-poll warbler, busily picking about the locust buds and twigs. Black head and above, with olive (green) wings and two white bars; white all beneath, with a very distinct black line from throat to shoulders; flesh-colored legs; bill, dark above, light beneath.")
May 21, 1852 ("A song sparrow's nest and eggs so placed in a bank that none could tread on it; bluish-white, speckled.")
May 22, 1854 (“The song suggests lateness, but only as we come to a knowledge of eternity after some acquaintance with time. . .  Only in their saner moments do men hear the crickets . . . A quire has begun which pauses not for any news, for it knows only the eternal.”)
May 24, 1857 (“Hear the first cricket as I go through a warm hollow, bringing round the summer with his everlasting strain.”);
May 26, 1852 ("To-night I hear many crickets. They have commenced their song. They bring in the summer.”)
May 26, 1854 (At sight of this deep and dense field all vibrating with motion and light, winter recedes many degrees in my memory. . . . The season of grass, now everywhere green and luxuriant.”)
May 26, 1855 ("To my surprise the Kalmia glauca almost all out; perhaps began with rhodora. A very fine flower, the more interesting for being early.")
May 26, 1855 ("What that neat song-sparrow-like nest of grass merely, in the wet sphagnum under the andromeda there, with three eggs, -- in that very secluded place, surrounded by the watery swamp and andromeda --  from which the bird stole like a mouse under the andromeda? Vide egg. It is narrower and more pointed at one end and lighter, a little, -- the brown less confluent, -- than that of the song sparrow with one spot on breast which took from ivy tree tuft. The last is bluish-white very thickly spotted and blotched with brown. Four eggs first seen, I think, the 22d")
May 26, 1857 ("A lady's-slipper. At Cliffs, no doubt, before.")
 
.

May 28, 1858 (“These various shades of grass remind me of June.”)
May 29, 1857 ("The sunniness contrasts with the shadows of the freshly expanded foliage, like the glances of an eye from under the dark eyelashes of June.”)
May 29, 1857 ("It was like the first bright flashings of an eye from under dark eyelashes after shedding warm tears.");
May 29, 1857 ("I sit on the top of Lee's Cliff, looking into the light and dark eye of the lake.");  June 6, 1855 ("You see the dark eye and shade of June on the river as well as on land.”)
May 30, 1852 (Now is the summer come. . . . A day for shadows, even of moving clouds, over fields in which the grass is beginning to wave."); 
May 30, 1857 ("Buttercups thickly spot the churchyard."); 
May 30, 1854 ("Wood frogs skipping over the dead leaves, whose color they resemble.").
May 30, 1855 (" Ladies’ slipper, apparently,")
May 30, 1855 ("Is it not summer now when the creak of the crickets begins to be general?”)
May 30, 1856 ("The lady’s-slipper in pitch pine wood-side near J. Hosmer’s Desert, probably about the 27th.")
May 30, 1857 ("In the midst of the shower, though it was not raining very hard, a black and white creeper came and inspected the limbs of a tree before my rock, in his usual zigzag, prying way, head downward often, and when it thundered loudest, heeded it not.”). 
June 1, 1856 (“Was soothed and cheered by I knew not what at first, but soon detected the now more general creak of crickets”)
June 2, 1852 (“Buttercups now spot the churchyard.”) 
June 4, 1857 ( “the creak of crickets, which affects our thoughts so favorably, imparting its own serenity. It is time now to bring our philosophy out of doors.”)
June 4, 1860 ("The black-poll warblers (Sylvia striata) appear to have left, and some other warblers, if not generally, with this first clear and bright and warm, peculiarly June weather, immediately after the May rain.")
June 6, 1857 ("This is June, the month of grass and leaves.”)
June 9. 1856 ("It is a dark eyelash which suggests a flashing eye beneath.”)
June 29, 1852 ("The mud turtle is the color of the mud, the wood frog and the hylodes of the dead leaves, the bullfrogs of the pads, the toad of the earth, the tree-toad of the bark.")
September 12, 1857 ("I brought it close to my eye and examined it. It was very beautiful seen thus nearly, not the dull dead-leaf color which I had imagined.")
September 24, 1859 ("Young men have not learned the phases of Nature; they do not know what constitutes a year, or that one year is like another.")

*****

May 27, 2019
For three quarters of an hour 
the sun is a great round red ball in the west, reflected in the water; 
at first a scarlet, but as it descends growing more purple and crimson and larger,
 with a blue bar of a cloud across it; still reflected in the water, 
two suns, one above the other. 
May 28, 1853 

If you make the least correct 
observation of nature this year,
 you will have occasion to repeat it
 with illustrations the next, 
and the season and life itself is prolonged.
 
May 26< <<<<<     May 27.   >>>>> May 28

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau, May 27

A Book of the Seasons,  by Henry Thoreau
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2024
https://tinyurl.com/HDT27May

This moment each year
lake and pond  both reflect
where the sun will set.
May 27, 2015
at
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